


Shall We Dance?

by PFDiva



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dancing, Gen, M/M, Power Dynamics, light bloodplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 12:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PFDiva/pseuds/PFDiva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by <a href="http://askthemidnightmen.tumblr.com/post/44603758578/dance-dance-your-decay-hb-youve-never-really">this</a> image's flavor text and <a href="http://universalrelevance.tumblr.com/">Uni's</a> super-classy, super-terrifying Droog, with a little of my Dirk thrown in for good measure.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Shall We Dance?

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://askthemidnightmen.tumblr.com/post/44603758578/dance-dance-your-decay-hb-youve-never-really) image's flavor text and [Uni's](http://universalrelevance.tumblr.com/) super-classy, super-terrifying Droog, with a little of my Dirk thrown in for good measure.

The dance floor only has two occupants, with the notable exception of an inattentive couple loitering around the edges.

They'll learn.

A whisper ripples its way through the crowd and all watch in awe, breath caught in their throat.

The two men are frequent visitors to the club.  Though they and their friends tend to arrive together, the pair usually split off from the group with surprising efficiency.

They are too rough for most of their partners, and get pained winces at best, or thrown out by the bouncer at worst.

Every now and again, though....

They dance with each other.

It's a dance, a seduction, a battle, a war on the dance floor.

And it seems that the DJ's playing their song.

It might be that the DJ, with his anime shades and smug smile, knows them.

It might just be luck.

But there they are, tearing across the floor together.

Bruises bloom where they touch each other.

Blood stains their clothing and scatters across the floor in arcane patterns.

They lose their hats.

Noone would dare steal the accessories as mementos to this sight.

No matter how tempting it might be.

The song ends, and the pair sweep up their hats to sag against the bar, panting for breath and ignoring their admiring audience.  The only hint they've noticed at all is the man with the scarred-over eye turning to snarl at the bystanders.

"Y'gotta problem?"

Noone has a problem and the club is suddenly in motion as everyone tries to not be the person to incite his notable wrath.

Droog chuckles breathlessly as he plucks the cigarette from Slick's fingers, earning a frustrated snarl for stopping the man from getting kicked out for causing damage to the bartender who'd have to tell him that smoking inside isn't allowed.

"Yer new boy's a ponce, Droog."

Droog hums happily, thoughtfully twirling the cigarette between his fingers.

"I wouldn't go so far as to declare him a ponce, per se, but I can understand where you might deign to draw the sentiment."

"I'm gonna stab you."

"He's young, a bit controlling, and quite impulsive."

"And?"

"I like it."

"You know, people usually start with the shit they DON'T like."

“Since when am I most people?”

“Go die in a hole, you flitty bastard.”

"But Slick, my parents were married to each other when they had me."

Droog easily deflects the dagger Slick attempts to stab him with, pinning his friend's wrist to the bar in a friendly manner.

He's accustomed to this type of behavior.

It's not like Slick was being malicious.

He didn't actually stab Droog.

"I like Strider exactly the way he is, Slick.  He's a challenge wrapped in a beautifully smug package."

"Really."

“Your tone is not appreciated.”

“Bite me.”

"No, thanks.  But if anything, Strider's sharp wit is the most irritation, especially since he knows he's smart.  His hubris regarding his intelligence, however, is lovely, and his face when I best him, even lovelier."

"Yer so creepy."

Droog smiles sweetly at Slick and watches his friend shudder and turn away to call for a drink.  He doesn't look at Dirk, because he knows the boy did that on purpose.  He shall have to think up a suitably unsavory punishment to express his distaste for the manipulation.

He enjoyed the dance, but there's no sense in allowing Dirk to believe that he can get away with such behavior.


End file.
